Old Year's Memories
by TaylorGibbs
Summary: On NYE, Gibbs can't quite shake the ghosts of the past. Gibbs/DiNozzo pairing. Please read the companion story, New Year's Promise, as well.


New Year's Eve 2008

Gibbs hadn't been one to celebrate New Year's Eve in many years. The passing of one year and start of another had usually meant more of the same—work, bad relationship decisions, an injury or two. Lately the grim thought of wondering how many of his co-workers would die. The last months had been so damned hard on everyone, especially himself. Jenny, Langer, Michelle, all in a year. It made him think back to that time when they'd lost Kate and Chris Pacci so close together. Or Paula's team and Kate…

It was why Gibbs preferred to be downstairs with his wood, smoothing hands over the graceful planes, the wood welcoming him, warming with his body heat. Solid wood that wouldn't break or shatter easily. He needed that strength and unfailing support in those times when nothing made sense. In those times where he was forced to keep his team in the dark and shoot one of his former agents, rendering a little girl motherless.

Gibbs sighed, leaning back against the cabin of the nearly-done sailboat. He couldn't wait to get her out on open water. She was headed for Baja and Franks' place, a gift for a little girl who wouldn't be able to use it for many years. His goddaughter was the only one who should have the gift of a boat named after Kelly.

Gibbs closed his eyes, resting his head against the cabin, letting the boat's strength support him for a moment. He shouldn't be so damned moody; things were changing and looking up. It had been a hard, long road, but there were signs that things were getting better.

At that thought, his eyes drifted to the stairwell, the partially open basement door, and the sound of his new flat screen television drifting down. Warmth and happiness were up there, so why was he down here?

He knew the answer to that question even before he posed it to himself. He needed this solitude, this quiet time, this brief moment where he faced all that had gone down in the last year and dealt with his failings as a leader.

It'd been a hell of a year for NCIS. Tony being accused of murder—again. The end of Benoit—with Jenny gone, Gibbs refused to think of him as "the Frog" any more—Jenny's death and the illness Gibbs had suspected she was suffering from. Svetlana, Gibbs' realization that Jenny hadn't completed her mission all those years ago. Burning down that townhouse.

Gibbs gaze held on open door and the inviting sounds of celebration coming from his living room, even as he mentally ticked off major events. Vance as director, the team being split up. Ziva back to Mossad and Tony afloat, McGee relegated to Cyber Crimes and a desk job that had set his Field Agent instincts back. Langer, Lee, and Keating. Of the three agents, only Keating was still alive, having taken a position in Cyber Crimes when the team was dissolved.

And Lee…Michelle Lee. Gibbs' gut hadn't niggled on her until it was too late for Langer. Brent had been his probie once; he'd been a good agent until the FBI had gotten hold of him. And then Lee…

"Jethro?"

A soft voice broke through his memories and Gibbs realized his eyes were shut. He popped them open and saw a concerned face staring into his.

"Yeah?"

"Ten of…come upstairs." A hand with long elegant fingers was extended to him.

Those green eyes stared into his, projecting calmness and support.

Gibbs looked at the boat and then at the man offering his hand.

"Champagne is chilling, Kathy Griffin is giving Anderson Cooper crap, and I'm not gonna ring in the New Year alone."

Tony was gentle when he needed to be, and Gibbs appreciated that. Gibbs exhaled slowly and Tony pulled him close. "The ghosts of the past year aren't great party guests, Jethro. I am, though." He paused, chewing on his lip. "Drink to their lives, but don't get too caught up in their deaths. They wouldn't want that."

Gibbs knew what Tony was saying made sense and that it was right. It was just so hard to let go of these three—three people his gut had clearly failed.

"They say to greet the new year doing what will be most important to you. Do you want that to be you alone here with your boat, your bourbon, and your memories, or do you want that to be in the arms of the hot stud you just moved in?" Tony gave Gibbs a comic leer, and that was enough to break the bands of tension constricting his chest.

Gibbs shoved off the boat, noting how the lines of Tony's face relaxed when he saw he'd gotten through to him. "Clothing optional?" Gibbs said, winking at Tony.

"Welcome back, Jethro," Tony said with a laugh, wrapping his arms around his lover. Gibbs squeezed the globes of Tony's ass, chuckling as the other man groaned and began to harden.

"You sure you're a grown man? You have the sex drive of a sixteen year old."

"When did that start becoming a problem?" Tony asked, amusement in his voice. Damn, he was sexy when he smiled. Gibbs could be shallow, and some days watching DiNozzo made _him_ so horny he felt like a sixteen year old.

"Didn't," Gibbs pointed out. "Get upstairs. Time's wasting!"

"On it…you, Boss," Tony said, licking his lips. "Uh…you were serious about the clothing optional thing, weren't ya?"

"Yeah…oh yeah," Gibbs replied, looking Tony up and down slowly. Tony grinned and gave him a jaunty salute, pounding his way back up the stairs.

Gibbs hesitated only a moment, nodding to the ghosts of his failures before joining the living, breathing man upstairs. While this had been a year of loss, he'd gained something pretty important as well in Tony DiNozzo.


End file.
